Posted in On Writing

Life as a writer

When people ask me what I do and I tell them I’m a writer, it elicits the funniest reactions sometimes. Like the time I visited my old employer MRM (Mabati Rolling Mills) and Eunice, a good friend, almost fell off her seat when she asked me who was in my book A Profile of Kenyan Entrepreneurs and I mentioned Manu Chandaria among others.

“You actually interviewed him?” I nodded. “Where?”

“His house.”

“You actually went to his house?” Her eyes opened wide and her voice was hushed as if stunned. From her reaction, one would have thought I said I visited State House.

It was understandable though. Manu, the chairman of Comcraft Group which owns MRM, has this larger than life image but he’s the humblest tycoon I’ve ever met, with the exception of the late Nelson Muguku. I don’t really like dealing with tycoons because most are so arrogant and dismissive, especially if you’re far below them on the economic ladder. There is one I’ve been introduced to three times but he still acts like he has no idea who I am, which is really funny.

Manu is so down to earth that on one or two visits to his home for our interviews, he went to the kitchen and brought tea and biscuits when the housekeeper wasn’t within earshot. On the last interview, he gave me a tour of the house, which I didn’t expect.

S.K. Macharia, founder of Royal Media Services was also in the book and later asked me to pen his autobiography. S.K. was interesting and a really good storyteller. His history was such a roller coaster of bizarre experiences that I always looked forward to our 7am interviews even though I’m not a morning person and getting up at 5am was a struggle. After I finished the draft manuscript, he said he wasn’t going to read it and instead proposed a trip where I would read the book aloud as he made changes and additions as necessary. “Where do you prefer to go, UK or Dubai?” he asked.

I was horrified. As any writer will tell you, by the time you submit a draft to the client, you have reread and rewritten it several times. I couldn’t imagine sitting for 5 days straight while someone (I was definitely not going to do it) read the lines I already knew by heart. I would be bored out of my mind. And why go outside the country to do it? Working from his office was out. We had discovered there were too many interruptions there. But going to the UK just to read a book? Seriously? That’s the day I concluded that S.K. has too much money. Continue reading “Life as a writer”

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Posted in On Writing

So many books, so little time

I finally got to read Dust, Yvonne Adhiambo Owuor’s critically acclaimed debut novel. I bought it last year together with The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks and World Without End by Ken Follet.

I hate shopping, rarely wear makeup, hardly drink and so to reward myself when I get paid for a project, I buy books, usually 2 or 3 at a go. I’m a binge reader and once I start a novel, will read it in one sitting unless it’s a beast like Ken Follet’s Pillars of the Earth, which is over 1,000 pages. I read that in three days. I read The Notebook in one evening and was done with World Without End, the same week. For some reason, Dust stayed on my coffee table for months unread, which is pretty unusual for me.

I finally picked it up the other morning, sure I was in for a treat. After all, it won the Jomo Kenyatta Prize for Literature in 2015. I also loved her short story Weight of Whispers, which won the Caine Prize in 2003 and introduced her to the world.

I hate to say it, but I couldn’t get beyond page 13 of Dust. What is it with some of these critically acclaimed novels that makes them such a pain to read? It’s like slogging through mud with boots weighed down by cement. I had the same problem with Ernest Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls. Despite several attempts, I haven’t made it past page 128 of the literally masterpiece. Continue reading “So many books, so little time”